


Ghosts of the Past

by TheAmazingCat (Kaybay2323)



Category: 15th Century CE RPF, The White Princess (TV), The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 10:46:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11125500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaybay2323/pseuds/TheAmazingCat
Summary: Elizabeth of York's internal thoughts while Perkin Warbeck is at court. Not based on TWP, based on history.





	Ghosts of the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!   
> Just kinda disappointed that TWP made Perkin Warbeck legit and I wanted to write a fic about it.

_He’s not my brother_

Bess said before her husband and mother in law with certainty. She could say it before the entire court if need be. This man, this boy was not her dead brother. Her brothers were long dead she had told her husband when he asked her in private. Long dead. This man could not be her brother.

_His gold hair catches the light_

Bess peered over at him from across the banquet hall; she sat in her high throne before everyone. She gripped the arms of her chair tightly. Her husband had been generous with him, as he had the one before him. He serves us at our court. Henry treats him as a servant. Bess knew why it proves he is no threat. And he cannot be, he is a defeated captured man. He is only alive because of her husband’s grace.generous with him, as he had the one before him. He serves us at our court. Henry treats him as a servant. Bess knew why it proves he is no threat. And he cannot be, he is a defeated captured man. He is only alive because of her husband’s grace.

  _A boatman’s son_

Bess could not bare to look at him for more than a quick glance. He is Perkin Warbeck, not her brother Prince Richard, Duke of York. He admitted his guilt, admitted that he falsely impersonated her dead brother. In truth, he is the son of a boatman from Tournai. From the corner of her eye, she saw this Perkin Warbeck, and she could see his gaze resting on her ladies. Bess imagines he is staring at his wife, Lady Catherine.

  _Such a sad affair_

Lady Catherine Gordon was a noblewoman, born and breed. Her father was Scottish Lord who had once been married to a Princess. The King of Scots had made her father believe she was marrying into the royal House of York, instead, this fine woman was married and bedded to a man of common blood. She adored him, the look of horror on her face when he admitted his guilt showed plain as day she had adored her husband. Such a pity, such a shame. Bess thought this with each passing day Lady Catherine was in her presence, for she was the loveliest of all her ladies. Whenever she was in her company Bess cannot think that Lady Catherine was the type of lady she would have wanted her true brother to have married.

  _People say he laughs like her father_

Bess cannot deny he had the looks of her mother, his hair and eyes are of similar shades, his skin is peaches and cream. His deep laugh his hearty and strong like her fathers was. His voice has an air of entitlement that had followed the Sons of York. At times she can see glimpses of her father and uncles in him. Her aunt has chosen him well, far better than the last. Of course, her aunt would be able to groom him in the mannerisms of her brothers. She did not do this with the last, it was plain as day that young Lambert was a peasant boy. This boy is different he is well trained in the customs of her house and has the looks of the White Rose.

  _Her palms sweat_

She has not known peace since he arrived, her thoughts dwell on the past, on times she longs wishes to forget. She thinks of her time in sanctuary, Bess remembers the last time she had seen her brother Richard, the day he had been taken from them. She remembers how he never returned. How her uncle refused to answer what had happened to them.Bess remembers the day her mother’s screams had pierced the walls of their rooms in Westminster. Bess remembers her mother’s cries over the realization of her brother’s probable death. Bess remembers how she repeated over and over that her boys, her princes, were dead.

  _He is not Richard_

Bess knew the tower well; she knew very well nobody could escape once they entered. Her brothers could not have escaped without their uncle’s knowledge. Her brothers are dead, she was certain of this for so long. She was certain her uncle had murdered them, as her father did the old King Henry. Perkin Warbeck was an imposter nothing more, Bess smiled sadly. She wished her husband would place him in a dungeon, far from her sight. She knew His presence alone brought up the ghosts of her brothers, the ghosts of an era she much rather forget.

  _My brothers are dead_

Bess thoughts were certain, whoever this man was, boatman’s son or not he was not the kind hearted little boy who she knew as a girl. He was a false imposter, dressed up by her aunt, taught her father’s mannerism, chosen for her mother’s looks. Her Aunt should be ashamed of herself, having a man impersonate her long dead brother. Was that not a sin? Bess had watched her brother leave her mother’s side, he had been a scared child. That child had died years ago. This man was not him, he couldn’t be. Bess’s brothers were dead.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed please leave me a comment and a kudos if you did!


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